


with everything falling down around me

by IronButterfly



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Established Relationship, Guns, Injury, Love, M/M, Protectiveness, Wedding Night, Wedding Rings, badass spyhusbands, when the duty of kingsmen gets in the way in the most unfortunate of times oops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-07
Updated: 2015-06-07
Packaged: 2018-04-03 09:11:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4095259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IronButterfly/pseuds/IronButterfly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“We had <i>plans</i>,” Harry grates aloud, while firing another round. “Fucking plans!”</p>
            </blockquote>





	with everything falling down around me

**Author's Note:**

> Not beta-ed or heavily edited, so if there are any major errors, feel free to let me know! I really should have been studying instead of writing this *sighs*. 
> 
> Anyway, enjoy!

For what it’s worth, Eggsy’s always known that nothing with Harry would come easily. Not in the sense that things would be difficult, no; rather that ‘easy’ isn’t the word he’d ever use to describe the man or anything to do with him.

 

It’s Saturday. They spend it under a hail of gunfire, Eggsy with a notable amount of blood draining from his arm. The expression on Harry’s face startlingly has not changed in two hours. His eyes are quickly scanning their surroundings, cataloguing every bit of information he gets. And then he turns them to Eggsy, prodding and checking his shoulder, bandaging with fingers tacky with blood. His movements are swift and automatic; even the gentle fingers that he presses to Eggsy’s cheek to ask if he really is okay.

 

 _In and out,_ Merlin had said, on Wednesday. _Two days, tops._

 

Today is their wedding day.

 

Any other time, Eggsy would have been ecstatic about the chance to work with Harry (these things just never get old), but well, _timing_. He manages well, though; ties up his wound again with the left-overs of his dress shirt, top half of his bespoke suit long lost and forgotten. Frankly, Harry’s not doing much better either. He has small nicks on his right cheek, the side of his nose, the downward curve of his mouth and one slanting through his left eyebrow.

 

Eggsy forces his gaze away, and levels his gun behind Harry over his shoulder, fires straight and hits right in the forehead of the first man on the roof. Harry murmurs something under his breath, loads his own gun and within counted seconds, a man with a rocket launcher tumbles flat on the next building over.

 

 

“We had _plans_ ,” Harry grates aloud, while firing another round. “Fucking plans!” From where he’s standing, Eggsy can’t tell who exactly is the subject of his accusations – maybe it’s Merlin, maybe it’s _him_ – but he can hear the unmistakable fury lying low in Harry’s voice. All the anger and irritation that’s been carefully concealed since the very beginning of that blasted mission, now spiraling out, matched with the squeeze of the trigger. It’s terrifying. Eggsy _loves_ it.

 

Eggsy loves how Harry’s hand looks around the gun, the way the calloused fingers of his left hand cradle the forend, the curve of his finger through the trigger guard, the skin of his wrist emerging from his sleeve, when he angles.

 

He shakes himself out of his daydream when they hear the frenzied thuds of boots approaching, and _fucking hell how many of them are there_? Eggsy barely has time to process the thought, when Harry suddenly grabs hold of Eggsy and yanks him down to the ground, pulling him tight against his chest: the mark’s grenade thankfully thunks too far to the left. Instinctively Eggsy crooks an elbow up to shield Harry’s head. The blast wave that follows feels like the thud of a rampaging semi.

 

Eggsy coughs, tries to pry his eyes open in the swirl of dust, already searching for Harry. “Arthur?” he checks.

 

Instantly Harry lifts his head. The only thing visible through the cloud of dust is his face, pale and streaked with blood, but completely focused on Eggsy’s. He gazes up at the younger man, lying across his chest, his expression open and calm. “Galahad.” He returns mildly.

 

A helicopter comes in fast, each beat of its rotors whamming against Eggsy’s ears and making his already aching head, _pound_ , and Harry lunges up and tucks him low again, one arm wrapped protectively around the back of his head. An instance later, through the facefull of dirt that Eggsy gets anyway, he makes out an approaching shadow, and with quick, precise movements and not a second of hesitation, Eggsy shoots the man dead, both arms braced on either of Harry’s shoulders, surrounded with Harry, wrapped around Harry.

 

And the little humming noise that Harry makes against Eggsy’s throat, isn’t quite grateful, but more approving and filled with the kind of certainty, like Harry _knew_ Eggsy’d do it, would have his back any second and in any way. Like there isn’t a scenario or a universe in which Harry wouldn’t completely trust Eggsy with his life, and Eggsy, in his turn, wouldn’t protect it with everything he’s got. And in that moment Eggsy’s chest feels like it’s cracking open, bursting with love and contrition and all the things he wants to make sure he says to Harry, slowly and the right way and also immediately and all at once.

 

“Marry me.” He breathes, on impulse. Doesn’t regret saying it and gives Harry a grin so wide, he can feel the sting of the gash on the side of his face and the grit nearly flowing right into his mouth.

 

For the first time in two days, the ends of Harry’s mouth quirk up into a small smile and the look of absolute fondness that he gives the younger man, manages to knock the very air from his lungs. Somehow, through all the chaos, between guns and dirt and helicopter noises, Harry’s fingers manage to find Eggsy’s hand and lift it gently towards his mouth, pressing a tender kiss right where the cool metal band circles beneath his knuckle. “What I fully intend to do, my dear heart.” He assures, planting another quick kiss into the center of Eggsy’s palm.

 

And then Merlin’s on the line, telling them to get ready for the end game, and miraculously having enough decency not to make any sort of remarks about their brief sentimental exchange just a few moments ago. They’re initially there to buy time, enough for Kay to get what they came for and for Lancelot to collect them without being noticed by their mark.

 

Momentarily Harry leans in and presses his lips firmly to Eggsy’s chest, just over his heart, ignoring the young man’s faint protests of ‘ _Bloody and dirty…haven’t washed in days…that’s gross ‘arry_.’and then pushes off to his knees, reaching and pulling Eggsy up with him. From this angle Eggsy sees another man coming, jerks his head to the side, and Harry, taking the clue, lunges out of the way. Eggsy shoots, but there are others closing in on them. Harry, meanwhile disposes a gun, knocks two unconscious and is spinning and arranging himself against Eggsy’s side in a heartbeat. The helicopter hums overhead, its gale pushing them flat to the roof once more. Eggsy curses and tries to shield his face. His eyes find Harry’s and he nods. They beat to a hasty retreat to the nearest barrier, ducking low and crouching in the shadow of it, and Eggsy can feel Harry’s body heat seeping onto his side, Harry’s arm looped tight around his middle.

 

“Honeymoon is going to be bloody boring after this.” Eggsy says, only half complaining. He’s sure he wasn’t heard through all the noise, but Harry gives his hand a squeeze, and he looks up.

 

“I wouldn’t bet on it.” Harry mutters silkily into his ear.

 

Eggsy laughs, turns his head and kisses Harry’s temple.


End file.
